


Sad

by AllMyCrushesAreDead



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Cutting, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Tries, Deceit | Janus Sanders is a Good Friend, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Protective Deceit | Janus Sanders, Self-Harm, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMyCrushesAreDead/pseuds/AllMyCrushesAreDead
Summary: Patton needs help, and finally, he gets it.Can be seen as a continuation of my previous fic, Happy.
Comments: 30
Kudos: 117





	1. Logan's Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello you beautiful beings!! This fic contains elements of self-harm, so please stay safe. Anyways, this can be seen as a continuation of my previous fic, Happy. This is also my first multi chapter fic, so it will look different than my others. I apologise for using this first chapter to infodump my bandaging knowledge, but I hope you still enjoy! Love ya!!! ♡♡♡

Patton didn't think that anyone noticed.

After all, he had done this several times before, although never to this extent.

But, if they hadn't noticed it before, they wouldn't notice now. At least, that's what Patton told himself.

He knew that a part of him wanted them to notice, wanted them to help him, to make him stop…

He wanted to stop…

Except he didn't.

He didn't want them to find out, didn't want them to take this away from him, not now that he was so dependent on it.

Patton shook his head in an attempt to clear it, stowing his razor away in his sock drawer.

 _Stop feeling bad for yourself_ , he thought, wrapping his arm with his bandages and pulling on a long sleeve shirt. _You did this to yourself so suck it up. Put on that smile everyone expects you to have and go out there and take care of the others._

Patton spared one last glance at his reflection before plastering on the smile and stepping out to greet the other sides.

\---

Logan was the first to notice.

To be fair, he wasn't particularly prone to notice changes in emotion, or even to recognize emotion in general, but he was quite skilled at recognizing changes in patterns, behaviors, and routines.

Thus, it was reasonable that he would be the first to notice that something was abnormal.

At first, Logan only had suspicions that something was amiss. Nevertheless, he could not gather enough evidence that anything was truly out of the ordinary for quite some time. That is, until this morning.

He knew immediately when he woke at exactly 6:30 a.m. that something was off in the mind palace. Call it what you wish, a hunch, intuition, a sixth sense, something in the air did not feel right. Something was different, and he was not looking forward to witnessing the consequences of such a detour from routine.

Seven minutes later, Logan stepped out of his room, trivia book in one hand. He quietly shut the door behind him before turning to go down the stairs to the kitchen.

Before he could take more than two steps, Patton's door opened with a click, the moral side stepping into the hallway, dressed in… a long sleeve shirt? Confused by this unusual choice of clothing, Logan forgot to greet the side, only to be refocused by Patton's greeting of, "Morning, Logan!"

"Salutations, Patton. Did you sleep adequately?"

Patton twisted the end of his sleeve between his fingers before replying, "I slept alright. How about you?"

Logan's eyes locked on the nervous movement, confused. It was unlike Patton to present such behaviors. In fact, the nervous fidgeting was a behavior that Virgil expressed frequently.

Logan took mental note of this discovery before replying, "I slept the recommended amount for someone of our age, so I am suitability well rested."

"Oh. Good," was Patton's weak reply.

Under further examination, Logan noticed the dark marks blemishing the skin under Patton's eyes. Despite his claims, Patton clearly had not slept well, possibly not at all. Furthermore, Patton was always bright and bubbly, no matter how early he woke up, so his quiet demeanor was concerning.

Analyzing these findings in his computer-like mind, Logan decided to question Patton further in order to gather more information.

"Are you cold, Patton? I noticed you are not wearing your usual outfit."

Patton let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I'm just a little chilly," he remarked, not meeting Logan's eyes. "Don't worry, though, I'm fine. I'm nice and toasty in this shirt."

Logan watched as a bead of sweat traced a path down his neck. "Of course," Logan replied, deciding not to question the side any further at the moment. Unnecessary prying would only make it more difficult for him to determine the problem.

Taking a step towards the stairs, Logan turned to Patton. "Would you care to accompany me to make breakfast for the others?"

"Of course!" Patton replied. "Maybe the smell of food will lure the kiddos out of bed before noon!"

\---

Several minutes later, Patton had procured a heaping stack of pancakes, along with a pan of bacon and scrambled eggs.

Logan gazed fondly at the fatherly side, whose tongue was poking between his teeth in concentration. He always seemed most in his element when he was taking care of others. It was quite endearing--

AUGHHH! Logan screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head. _Bad Logic. Emotional attachment serves only as a barrier to advancement. Stop it._

He took a sip of his coffee to hide his frustrated blush. Glancing back at Patton, he noticed another peculiar detail. He had not rolled his sleeves up, despite the fact that he was cooking and, quite frankly, they were in the way. Even now, with flour coating the fabric, he made no effort to move them.

"Patton?" Logan called curiously. "Why are you not rolling up your sleeves? Surely it cannot be comfortable for them to be in the way and getting covered in food."

Patton froze, eyes widening, staring blankly at the pan in front of him. "Um… uh- it's not that b-big of a deal," he stuttered, still not meeting Logan's gaze.

Time seemed to stop as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Logan's breath caught in his throat as he came to a conclusion. For the first time, he desperately hoped he was not correct.

"Patton," Logan said slowly, "show me your arm."

Patton dropped the spatula with a clatter, backing into the cabinet. Now he met Logan's eyes, panic clear in his face, even to Logan. "Please… please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry, please! Don't- don't- I- no-"

"Patton. Just breathe. I am not mad at you. I just want to help you and understand what is going on. So, please. Show me your arm."

Patton drew in a shaky breath, screwing his eyes closed and nodding. After a moment, he thrust out his sleeved arm, turning his face to the side, eyes still screwed shut.

Logan took a cautious step forward before gently gripping his extended hand and peeling back the sleeve. He breathed a small side of relief at the fact that it was bandaged, but quickly changed his mind when he noticed the supplies that Patton had used. He appeared to have used toilet paper that had been folded a few times over and secured with medical tape. No. This would not do.

Logan moved to remove the makeshift bandage before hesitating. "Patton?" he called gently.

The moral side made a small noise in response, cracking an eye open.

"Would you prefer to move this to a more private area, as well as one not in the same region as where we cook and eat?"

Patton gave a slight nod, gripping the logical side's hand tightly.

Slowly, Logan sank out of the kitchen, rising again in his own bathroom.

"Is this location adequate? I have more supplies in here that I can utilize than somewhere else."

Patton nodded again, opening his eyes slightly more.

"I am going to remove the bandage now," Logan said softly. "I will need both my hands, however, as well as a moment to wash them before I begin."

Reluctantly, Patton loosened his grip on Logan's hand, moving to clutch his thighs, digging his nails into the flesh before wincing, a hiss of pain escaping his lips.

Logan dried his hands on a towel before rummaging in the medicine cabinet and removing a few labeled and meticulously organized first aid kits and tubs.

He turned to Patton, who was still standing, staring blankly at the tiled floor. "Do you have any other wounds on other areas of your body?" Logan asked gently. "I noticed you seemed pained when you touched your thighs. I will not be mad if there were other areas, I merely wish to tend to any and all of your needs to assist you in any way I can."

"Arms and thighs," Patton murmured.

Logan nodded, pain and sympathy flaring up in his chest. The fire licked at his eyes, threatening to tear up. Taking a slow breath, Logan refocused.

"Could you remove the articles of clothing that are covering said areas?"

Patton nodded once more, wincing as he pulled his arms free of the shirt, tossing it on the floor before attempting to wriggle out of his pants. He didn't get very far before his belt scraped against his thigh, dragging a strangled cry from his lips. He teetered slightly from the rush of pain, almost toppling to the floor before Logan grasped his sides with two steady hands.

"I have you, you are alright," Logan assured, being careful not to bump Patton's arms.

Patton nodded again before shucking his pants off the rest of the way.

Logan continued to support him with one hand as he closed the toilet lid, pulling a towel from the rack to cover it.

"If you would sit here," he requested, guiding the side to the seat.

Snapping his fingers, Logan summoned a small stool. He hated summoning, but in a time such as this, it was the most logical decision.

Seating himself in front of Patton, Logan eyed the twin bandages on both his arms and legs before noticing Patton's hands frantically clenching and shaking. Reaching out his mind, he found a tool that would aid this problem. Snapping again, he summoned a stress ball shaped like an atom, Logan's personal favorite. Silently, he handed it to Patton, who took it gratefully. Now Logan began to remove the bandages on Patton's right arm. 

Despite his attempts to remain calm and passive, Logan felt his eyes widen at the sheer amount of cuts littering Patton's arm. From about an inch and a half from his wrist to about an inch from the crease in his arm, Patton's skin was utterly covered in cuts. There wasn't so much as a sliver of skin free from a mark, to the point where it appeared to be more cut than skin.

He also saw the remnants of old cuts above and below the fresh wounds. This was not the first time this has happened.

Tightening his grip on Patton's hand, Logan reached to the counter to grab an alcohol wipe. "I apologize in advance, Patton. This is going to hurt, but I need to ensure that you do not run the risk of an infection by not cleaning the wound."

Patton nodded again, screwing his face up in anticipation and clutching both Logan's hand and the stress ball like lifelines.

"One… two… three."

Logan swiped at the skin both as quickly and as effectively as he could, all the while trying to inflict as little pain as possible.

Patton let out a strangled scream, both from the burning alcohol and the pressure on the sensitive skin.

Logan began blowing cool air in the skin, hoping to quench the fire burning in Patton's arm. He watched, pain tight in his chest, as the veins stood out in Patton's neck, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

After a moment, Patton slumped back, taking a shaky breath.

Pulling out another tube, Logan squeezed a large dollop onto his fingers. "This is an antibiotic ointment," he informed the other side. "It also has a pain reliever in it, so this should not hurt as much." Slowly, he began spreading the ointment onto Patton's skin, covering each inch of skin with a thin layer before wiping the excess onto the towel.

"Now I am going to bandage it."

He took out a roll of medical tape, securing a length to each side of Patton's arm on either side of the wounds.

"What's that for?" Patton wondered aloud 

"This is just to secure the bandage so it does not slide around. It is placed under the bandage wrap to secure it to the skin, and in a few steps, I will twist the remaining tape around to attach to the top of the bandage itself."

Patton nodded thoughtfully, relaxing slightly at the knowledge that Logan was more experienced and knowledgeable than himself. He knew he was in good hands.

Logan placed a tongue depressor to either end of the tape. "This is just so the remainder of the tape does not stick to the skin, as I will use it later to tape the bandage."

Now he took out two non-adhesive pads, placing them over the cuts. "Do not move your arm," he warned. "Those are not secured in any way and I do not want them to fall."

Reaching again to his first aid kit, he pulled out a roll of cotton gauze. He slowly wrapped around the arm, then tore the end and set the roll back on the counter.

Now he took a roll of elastic gauze to secure the cotton one. This gauze was very thin and was basically just elastic strings fashioned into a fishnet pattern. However, it did its job well, holding down the fluffy earlier and somehow sticking to itself to secure it.

Now Logan removed the tongue depressors from the tape, twisting it where it stuck out under the gauze and taping it to the top.

"Almost done," he assured Patton, who seemed to be distracted from any pain caused by Logan's actions, seeming entranced by Logan's movement, watching him with fascination.

Logan smiled slightly to himself as he procured a cohesive wrap decorated with cartoon dogs and cats.

Patton let out a gasp of excitement, his eyes lighting up for the first time that day.

Logan chuckled lightly before freezing, slowly looking up at Patton.

"Did you just-"

"No, I did not, and whatever it is that you are asking, I do not know what you mean."

"But you-"

"No, I did not."

"You did! You just laughed!"

Logan groaned. "This stays between us, agreed?" He couldn't handle the looks he would receive from the other sides if they knew he was not the stone cold person he made himself out to be.

Patton's smile widened as he held out his pinky. "I pinky promise."

On any other day, Logan would have protested such childish activities, but he conceded, figuring that it would make Patton happy, which he needed desperately right now. "Pinky promise," Logan agreed, linking his pinky with Patton's. "Now, can I finish your wrap?"

Patton nodded, a smile still lingering on his face.

"This will stick to itself so it can stay in place," he informed the moral side.

As he began wrapping the bandages, Patton cheerfully announced, "You do have a cute little laugh, y'know."

Logan blushed furiously. "I thought that we had retired that topic of conversation."

"Nope!" Patton replied, popping the P. "I'm just so gosh-darn happy that you can laugh, kiddo! You hardly ever do it, so I thought that maybe your giggle box was broken or something!" Patton continued, a giggle of his own punctuating his statement.

Logan's face burned as he muttered, "Can we please talk about something else?"

"Sure thing, but we are gonna talk about this later, kiddo!"

Logan groaned again, but continued wrapping the father side's arm.

After a moment, he continued on to the next arm, repeating the steps as Patton rambled on about seemingly unimportant topics. Logan gave input every so often as he finished cleaning and wrapping all the cuts on Patton skin. The conversation helped distract Patton, which allowed the process to speed along uninterrupted.

Once Logan finished, he packed up his supplies, placing them into the medicine cabinet and helping Patton out of the bathroom and into Logan's room, all while he chattered happily about this and that.

Sitting down on the edge of Logan's bed, Patton watched as Logan rummaged through his drawers in search of something. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and he presented a pair of thin sweatpants and a thin, breathable long sleeve shirt to Patton.

"You can wear these," Logan explained when Patton looked confused. "They are looser and less stuffy and oppressive than what you were wearing."

Patton nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course. I will also wear a similar style outfit so as not to draw unnecessary attention to the fact that you are wearing long sleeves. I will also turn the air conditioning down a few degrees so neither of us overheat."

"I really appreciate it, Logan. Thank you for…" he paused, tears welling in his eyes. "For everything."

Logan nodded, then quickly changed into the comfortable clothes before helping Patton into his. "I do wish to talk with you about this. Not immediately, however," he added, saying panic flare up in Patton's eyes again. "Just... Sometime later. As for right now, I believe breakfast is still waiting for us downstairs. Let us go and get some food before the others finish it all."

Patton gave a small smile before taking Logan's arm once again and sinking back into the kitchen.


	2. Virgil's Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil realizes what's been happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you beautiful beings!! This fic contains elements of self-harm, so please stay safe. Here's part two of this fic, sorry it took forever to publish!! Hope you enjoy!!

Virgil was the next to notice. 

He mentally scolded himself for not noticing sooner, especially since he had much more evidence to go off of.

He knew something was up when he felt a wave of panic and anguish sweep over him just as he was attempting to fall asleep.

Virgil groaned internally, but he could recognize that the anxiety wasn't stemming from him. He just hoped that whoever was freaking out would calm the fuck down so he could sleep.

Part of him hated that he thought like that, especially when another even more powerful wave of distress washed over him.

Whoever this was coming from, Virgil worried for them. Their anxiety was starting to affect him as well. Within a few moments, he struggled to breathe, drawing in shallow, gasping breaths.

He didn't know how this side was handling this. Had this been Virgil's own panic, he would have already done something he would regret in the morning. He was itching to do it, to make it stop, but the rational side of his brain reminded him that it wouldn't stop until the other side calmed down.

But still the panic rose, causing Virgil to curl in on himself, shaking as sobs racked his body. He clutched desperately at his chest, his fist wound tightly in his shirt. He couldn't breathe, couldn't stop it, _make it stop, make it stop, **make it stop**_.

How were they doing this? Why couldn't they make it stop?

Virgil prayed that whoever it was wouldn't just ride out the attack. He didn't think that he could make it that long. At the same time, he hoped they wouldn't do something drastic, as good as that sounded right now. 

But he couldn't wish for someone else's pain.

Neither solution was ideal, but riding it out or managing to calm down was far less damaging than the alternative. 

Who _was_ this?!

Virgil reached out with his mind through the haze and panic, frantically searching for its source.

Just as he reached for it, stinging pain ripped through the panic, and Virgil gasped, air finally reaching his lungs through the tightness in his chest.

Virgil looked down at his arm just as another slice joined the array of scars littering his arms. Then another. Then another.

Virgil’s vision began to dim, his head swimming with the leftover panic.

 _Shit_ , he thought, worry for whoever the side was, as well as for himself, welling up in his chest before he blacked out.

\---

Virgil didn’t exactly have a lovely wake up call the next morning. In fact, it was a spike in the mysterious side’s anxiety. Nevertheless, it ripped him out of his sleep, not caring that he didn’t feel rested whatsoever.

Even though Virgil had been knocked unconscious, the other side’s anxiety still took a toll on his mental and physical state, despite the fact that he wasn’t conscious during most of it. He would feel the same pain as that side, and judging by how he felt right now, they hadn’t slept last night. As Virgil moved to sit up, he saw why. Cuts were littered across both his arms and thighs.

Virgil winced as he got up, sighing when he saw the blood staining his sheets. Luckily for him, he had worn a short-sleeved black t-shirt and boxers to bed, so he didn’t have to worry about scrubbing as much out of pants and a longer sleeved shirt, or even worse, his hoodie. 

Virgil trudged to the bathroom, pulling out his supplies. Unfortunately, he had far too much experience taking care of self-harm marks, both those given to himself and those given from the other sides. 

After a few minutes and several strangled curse words, he had expertly treated and bandaged the cuts.

He had the supplies for it, too. Logan knew that he had the tendency to self-harm (though he didn’t know about how others’ actions carried over to him), and had given him an abundance of supplies, along with offering his counseling abilities and advice, which Virgil did take from time to time. He was getting better at finding a healthier outlet, but he still fell to old habits when things got bad. But, at least Logan had taught him how to properly bandage, so he knew he’d done it right.

Pulling his stained clothes off and dropping them in the sink, Virgil slipped into a clean t-shirt and loose sweatpants instead of his usual attire of tight-fitting long-sleeved shirts and skinny jeans. He pulled his jacket over his stinging arms, counting on that to cover his bandages.

Pulling his sheets off the bed, he dropped those in his sink as well, digging under the counter for the bottle of dish soap he kept there especially for this. As he began washing the blood out of the fabric, he thought again about the side who had the attack. He could still feel the anxiety bubbling under the surface, but it wasn’t anything Virgil hadn’t felt a million times before. However, every few minutes, something made the side become more distressed, causing Virgil to once again struggle to breathe. It was nowhere as bad as last night, but it was still there. However, every time he tried to reach out to learn the side’s identity, they calmed down just enough to where it was just out of grasp. He sighed again, staring at the sheets he was scrubbing between his hands. 

Leaning into his room, he glanced at his alarm clock. It was only 6:34. No one should be up for a bit, or at least not out and about. Well, no one but Logan. He should be getting up ready to go read a book in the living room. But he wouldn’t expect anyone else to be awake. He just wanted to get some coffee and read in peace. 

Sure enough, at 6:37, Virgil heard Logan’s door softly click shut.

Virgil ignored it, continuing to wash the sheets, at least until he heard Patton’s door open and shut a few seconds later.

That was unusual. Patton hardly ever was up this early. He didn’t exactly sleep in late, but only Logan was crazy enough to be willingly awake this early.

Logan and Patton began to speak quietly in the hallway, just soft enough where Virgil couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

Intermittently throughout the conversation, Virgil felt anxiety spike in him once again, but it always slipped away before he could identify its source. So he still didn’t know if it was one of the sides in the hall, or one of the others.

After a minute, they went downstairs, and Virgil began to smell food cooking. He began washing faster, hoping to get some food before one of the twins woke up and ate it all. He was about halfway done when panic shot through him, causing him to drop to the floor gasping. Blindly, he groped out for the source, and finally, he managed to find it.

When Virgil saw who it was, his own dread threaded into the existing distress.

_Shit… no, no, no! Patton…_

As Patton began to calm down, no doubt aided by Logan, Virgil let out a sob. None of the sides deserved to feel this kind of anguish, but Patton especially. He didn’t know how to ask for help, how to admit that he wasn’t okay.

Virgil sat on the bathroom floor in shock and despair for several minutes before hearing talking from the other side of the wall, which would have been…. Logan’s bathroom?

Virgil didn’t stay confused for long, however, as he soon heard the sound of a sink, followed by Logan’s voice. It was close enough now that he could make out what was being said. Pressing his ear to the wall, Virgil heard Patton’s quiet voice say, “Arms and thighs.”

Well, that confirmed it. Virgil didn’t know if he should be relieved that he knew who it was, grateful that Logan was helping Patton, or pained that Patton was suffering. Eventually, he decided that he could feel all three.

He slumped against the wall, hearing Logan ask Patton to remove the clothes covering the cuts. Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, mentally thanking every good thing out there that Logan was helping Patton.

He was ripped out of his head by stinging in his arms, closely followed by a pain in his thigh so intense that he struggled not to cry out.

His head pounded as the haze of pain enveloped him. He didn’t have time to fully recover before he felt the familiar burn of alcohol in the cuts, though none of the moisture. The pain ripped through him, far more intense than he felt normally on his own… which meant that Patton wasn’t used to the feeling. Whether that was a good or bad thing, he didn’t know. Then again, it was hard to think past the fact that he was biting onto his fist to muffle the anguished cry ripping from his throat.

He sat on the floor, panting, until he felt the soothing relief of the antibiotic Logan always used.

Shakily, Virgil gripped onto the sink and tried to keep cleaning before the stains set in permanently. He managed to finish the sheets within a few minutes, laying them over the tub to dry. As he moved to clean his clothes, Virgil heard an excited gasp that only could have come from Patton. 

Virgil let out a small chuckle just as he heard another through the wall. Shocked, he pressed his ear to the surface.

“Did you just-” Patton began, joy clear in his voice. Virgil tried not to smile at Logan’s adamant denial of his laughter.

He continued washing the clothes as he heard the two sides talking back and forth, Logan going as far as giving into Patton’s request for a pinky promise. Virgil smirked at that, feeling significantly better by listening to their banter.

As they continued to converse, Virgil felt the sting of alcohol again, this time muted, as if Patton’s taking distracted him and numbed the pain.

Virgil finished washing his things just as he heard the voices leave the room. Laying out his clothes on the tub, Virgil pulled his jacket sleeves down, situating them over the bandages.

Quietly, so as not to wake anyone still asleep, he slipped into the hallway and tiptoed down the stairs.

Rounding the kitchen corner, he gave Logan and Patton a nod, reaching into the cabinet to grab his Nightmare Before Christmas mug. After pouring himself a cup of black coffee with sugar, he plopped himself onto the counter beside them. 

After taking a swig and allowing the rush of caffeine to hit his brain and finish waking it up, he took a better look at the other sides.

"I guess we're all the sweatpants gang today, huh?"

“I guess so, kiddo!” Patton replied.

Logan didn’t respond, but gave a slight smile from behind his Periodic Table of Elements mug. 

“So, whatcha makin’ today, Pops?”

“Classic breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon! Plus,” he opened the fridge and took out a carton and a can of whipped cream, “strawberries on top!”

“Sounds great, Pat!”

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Virgil decided it was time to confront the elephant in the room. “Pat?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I need to talk to you about something.”

A twinge of Patton’s anxiety shot through Virgil’s chest. “A-about what, kiddo?”

“About last night.”

Patton froze, the muscles in his back visibly tensing up as he replied in a forcibly cheerful voice, “I-I’m not sure I know what you mean there, kiddo!” He attempted to change the subject quickly, whipping another spatula out of thin air. “Do you want to help me with breakfast?”

Virgil didn’t move, watching the fatherly side anxiously as Patton twisted his shirt in between his fingers. He slowly took the spare spatula Patton was offering, setting it gently on the counter. Sparing a glance behind him, Virgil met Logan’s eyes, and the logical side just nodded solemnly. 

“Patton, please? I know what happened, I just want to talk about it.”

Virgil felt Patton’s heart rate spike, his breathing beginning to ramp up. “It’s not that big of a deal, kiddo, let’s just take care of breakfast!” he replied, still not meeting Virgil’s gaze. “What would you like to drink, orange juice, coffee? I have hot chocolate, too! Or I’ll make something else! There’s tea, I can make tea!”

Patton began to ramble, running a hand through his hair anxiously, his breathing becoming panicky. 

Virgil staggered back, struggling to breathe alongside Patton, his chest tight and throat closed up. “P-Patt, please. Calm down. Breathe, please,” Virgil pleased, his voice sounding strangled.

“N-no! No, no, no, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, please, I don’t-”

Patton clutched a hand to his chest, the other beginning to flap frantically. His breaths pulled ragged and panicked, rasping in and wheezing out. Suddenly, he clutched the counter tightly, falling to his knees on the ground, curling in on himself. At the same time, Virgil collapsed off of the counter, letting out a strangled cry as he caught his body weight on his forearms.

Patton flinched at the sound, curling in on himself even further and shuttering while Virgil just laid on the floor, tears slipping down his cheeks as he clutched his arms to his chest.

“Patton, please… stop, plea-” Virgil begged, his voice choking off at the exact moment as Patton dug his nails into his thighs.

Comprehension bloomed on Logan’s face as the pieces clicked together. He unfroze from where he had been standing paralyzed and rushed to Patton, kneeling in front of him.

“Patton? Patton, can you grab onto my hands?”

Patton blindly reached out, squeezing Logan’s hands with more strength than Logan thought he would have.

“Okay, good job. Now, I need you to breathe with me, alright? In for four…” Logan tapped the count on Patton’s hand with a finger, “hold for seven… and out for eight.”

Logan could hear Virgil’s breathing slowing, and after a few rounds of exercises with Patton, Virgil was able to breathe somewhat normally, and he let out a shaky sob.

Logan lead Patton through one more round before the moral side jerked backwards, eyes widening once again. “What about Virgil?!” he realized, beginning to panic again, his breaths coming quicker once more. “Stop worrying about me! Help _him_! I’m not important, just _help_ him!”

“Patton! _Patton!_ Just listen to me! _”_ Logan gripped the side’s hands firmly to still his attempts at escape. “Virgil is not panicking on his own. If my observations are correct, he is experiencing any and all panic responses you go through.” Logan glanced back at Virgil, who managed to nod.

“Logan’s right, P-Pat. I-I feel whatever y-you feel.”

Logan looked back at Patton. “So, I need to calm you down so that he can calm down. If I would have attempted to guide Virgil through a breathing exercise, it would have done nothing, as he is not the source of this panic response.

“You mean, _I_ did this to him?!”

“I _mean_ , I believe this to be a power of Virgil’s that he chose not to inform us of, as it would cause an eruption of mass concern.”

Logan shot Virgil a _we’ll-talk-about-this-later_ look before turning back to Patton, who had tears welling in his eyes, but seemed to have shaken off most of the panic. Now he just looked heartbroken.

“Is that how you knew about last night? You felt me feeling upset?”

“You were more than upset, Patton. You went through one of the worst attacks I’ve ever felt, and I’ve experienced my fair share of panic and anxiety attacks, _plus_ some. You weren’t just _upset_.”

“Virgil is right, Patton. If you continue to repress these feelings, it will only,” he dug through his flash cards, “rear its ugly head at a later point, most likely far worse than it was this time.”

“How… how much of it did you feel?”

“I felt everything you felt, at the intensity you felt it at. Including….” Virgil hesitantly pulled his hoodie sleeve up, revealing the edge of his bandage.

Both sides wore similar expressions of shock.

“Why didn’t you tell us about this before?!” Patton cried, tears beginning to streak down his face.

“I am so sorry, Virgil. If I had known, I would not have done—"

“Well, you didn’t know, because I didn’t tell you,” Virgil muttered, hugging his legs to his chest. He turned his gaze to Patton. “And besides, even though I knew it wouldn’t help because it wasn’t my own anxiety, I was about to do it myself, so…”

“All those times… all those times I assumed it was a coincidence you had cuts at the same time I did…” Logan met Virgil’s eyes, regret and concern painted on every feature. “How many of those times I helped you bandage yourself was it caused by another side’s self-harm?”

Virgil was silent a moment before he spoke. “About half the time… Sometimes I can reach out and figure out who it is, but sometimes I can’t. I’ve learned to figure it out based on how they self-harm and how long they continue for. For Patton, I was able to reach out and figure out it was him. I couldn’t figure out who it was otherwise.”

Logan looked like he was going to question him further, but Virgil cut him off before he could start. “We can talk about this later, because we _do_ need to talk about it, frankly with _all_ the sides, but I don’t think I’m ready for that right now. However,” he stood up shakily, “I believe we need to eat up some of that food before Remus and Roman wake up and devour it all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed chapter two of Sad! I'll hopefully get the next chapter out soon! Anyways, stay safe and stay awesome everyone!!! Love ya!!♡♡♡


	3. Remus' Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus offers his advice in his own unique way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates within a few days of each other? More likely than you'd think!  
> Hello you beautiful beings!! This fic contains elements of self-harm, so please stay safe. Here's part three of this fic, this time featuring Remus! Hope you enjoy!!

Remus had a feeling that Patton wasn’t doing so good up in his head, but he knew better than to worm his sorry ass into a situation he wasn’t wanted in.

Remus had the _blessed_ ability to hear _allll_ the little evil voices in everyone’s heads, not to mention his own demented friends who took up dwellings in the deep, dark crevices of his mind. So it wasn’t too much of a shocker when he started to hear those dreadful dicks coming over from Patton’s brain.

They all whispered darkly, sowing seeds of self-hatred and self doubt. They told Patton he wasn’t loved, wasn’t cared for, wasn’t important.

_Just shut up and do your job. No one cares if wittle baby Patton is sad. Why would they care about you? What have you done that deserves love? You literally split Creativity. That was **your** fault. Your job is to be happy. Suck it up and grow a pair._

Remus wanted to bash their heads in with a blunt axe. He want to chop their heads off, tear out their eyeballs and replace them with candles, then use them to decorate his room. He wanted to—

Well… you get the picture.

And besides, they were just thoughts. He couldn’t do _shit_ to actually harm them, no matter how much he wanted to.

When the thoughts slowly darkened, Remus wanted to rip his own heart out. It hurt too much just thinking about the fact that Patton would even consider following through with his thoughts.

He knew Patton had started cutting. He knew because of those voices that told him to slice his skin like bread whenever he got upset. That didn’t happen unless you already started cutting.

Remus didn’t judge him for doing it though. There was something cathartic about watching your very life source trickle out, to know you had the ability to end it all right there in your hand. The pain forced your brain to shut the fuck up for just two seconds. Remus could understand the appeal. Hell, he’d done it himself more than he could count. Watching the wounds heal in slow motion could silence his brain for hours on end, granting a much needed reprieve from the clashing and yelling of his thoughts.

Remus absentmindedly dragged a nail over his raised scars while he laid in bed, thinking. That was never a good sign. When Remus thought, that meant he was about to do some stupid shit he would regret later.

Today, it seemed like that stupid shit was going to be confronting Patton.

Rolling out of bed, he pulled on his usual outfit, applying his makeup with a practiced hand.

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of coffee and food. Realization blooming on his face, Remus dashed to his bed, plopping down to yank on his boots, then grabbing his morning start. _You never know who you’re gonna have to kill over breakfast_ , he thought, a wicked grin overtaking his features as he skipped down the stairs.

As he skidded to a screeching halt in the kitchen’s entrance, Remus shot Logan, Virgil, and Patton a gap-toothed grin, leaning suggestively against the doorway.

“Morning, dorks!” he shouted, swinging his morning star with one hand.

Virgil rolled his eyes from where he was perched on the counter, though Remus caught a glimpse of a smile from behind his coffee mug. Patton gave a small wave, pulling a coffee mug down from the cabinet, filling it to the brim, then handing it to the side. Logan stared at his coffee mug, the tips of his ears tinged pink. After a moment, he risked a glace at Remus, only to find that Remus was staring at him, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. The normally solemn side blushed a furious red, coughing awkwardly before shuffling out to the dining room. “I’ll… go set the table,” he muttered, face still bright red.

Virgil chuckled lightly before catching Remus’ pointed look. Giving a small, discrete nod, he said, “I’ll go help him, then. Can I take the plates and silverware? Seems like Logan forgot those.”

“Alright, kiddo!” Patton replied. “I’ll just finish up the food. It’ll be ready in just a second.”

As Virgil stepped out of the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates and silverware, Remus stepped away from his spot in the doorway, approaching Patton cautiously.

“Soooo…. about the whole slicey-slicey thing?” Remus probed, miming slitting his wrist.

Patton froze, his shoulders tensing as he paled. “W-what do you mean?”

“Y’know… the whole cutting thing? The whole self-harm thing? The whole cutting your skin open and watching yourself bleed thing? The whole—”

“Nope! Yeah, I… I got it… Just, um… how’d you know… about that?”

“Well, me kinda being the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and all, I can kinda hear all intrusive thoughts from the others… including you.”

“I am _so_ sorry, Remus. If I had known—”

“How could ya have? And, besides, its not like you coulda just _not thought_ the thoughts. It’s kinda the whole reason they’re called _intrusive._ ”

“Still, I don’t want you to have to deal with that on top of what you already have to deal with.”

“It’s part of my job! Besides, I’d rather know what’s going on inside your head so I can… I dunno… help, I guess? Geez, stop making me sound so sappy, you’re gonna ruin my reputation,” Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Still…. I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine! You should hear some of the shi- stuff! Stuff… that, uh, Logan has to listen to. Of course he’s got the whole, _‘I’m not good enough’_ thing going on, but then he’s got the whole _‘I’m not supposed to have emotions’_ thingy, on top of the _‘I’m failing Thomas and the others if I take time for myself’_ thing. And _that’s_ not even the worst of it! It’s insane the amount of irrational and self-destructive thoughts he has, considering that he always has a rebuttal for anyone else’s illogical thinking. And don’t get me started on Roman! He—”

“Remus! Wait, please,” Patton cut him off abruptly. “I- I don’t think you should be telling me this, not with out the others knowing. We need to talk about it, but… _with_ the others, m’kay?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, sorry… I got a little carried away with my train of thought there…” He paused a moment, trying to remember where he was going with this. “I just… I know I’m not the best person to go to for hwlp with stuff like this… In fact, I normally make it worse… but, go to someone when you need to talk? Don’t keep these thoughts bottled up inside. I know I’m kinda being hypocritical here, but… ask someone to help you work through these thoughts. Repression works for a period of time, but eventually you’re gonna have to wake up and smell the cow manure. And, believe me. It’s much easier to face your problems when someone’s there to help you than to go it alone. If you’re hurting, I want to know so I can help. And I know the others feel the same…”

Patton stood in shock for a moment, tears glistening in his eyes. Suddenly, he surged forward, wrapping Remus in his embrace. Remus wordlessly cradled the moral side in his arms, tucking his face into Patton’s neck to hide the glistening of tears in his own eyes. After a moment, Patton pulled away, smiling softly at him. Retrieving their coffee mugs that had both been abandoned on the counter during their discussion, Patton topped them off with fresh coffee before returning the octopus one to Remus.

Gladly accepting the drink, Remus chucked once more. “Geez, my reputation _totally_ just jumped out of the window… of the plane… while in flight…. _Anyways,_ I gotta pull myself together! Can’t have people thinking I’m some sappy, lovey-dovey friend, now can I? Hold up, lemme get back in character.”

Remus began squawking loudly, shaking out his limbs and pulling strange faces. After a moment of this, with Patton giggling from behind his hand, he resumed a somewhat normal expression… at least… normal for Remus… which meant slightly crazed. Cracking his neck loudly, he blurted out, “So, about our resident nerd… that was _quite_ a strange reaction to my presence, don’t ya think?”

Patton giggled again, hugging his mug to his chest. “I’d say!” he replied.

“ _Oooh!_ I _wonder_ if Logie-poo has the _hots_ for me!” Remus said with a cackle.

Patton blushed lightly at the phrasing, but pressed on bravely. “I dunno, kiddo! Sure looked strange to me, though!”

Remus gasped dramatically. “I bet he had a _wet dream_ or something, and now he can’t look at me without seeing me in all my naked glory!”

Patton choked on his coffee, his face blooming into a burning blush. He stammered a moment in shock before attempting to change the subject. “You wanna help me carry the food out, bud?” Patton squeaked, fanning his face with one hand.

Remus let out another cackle. “Of course, Patty-pal! I gotta try and eat it all before Roman wakes up! He’ll be _pissed_!” he replied, sounding delighted at the prospect. To emphasize his point, he scooped a handful of scrambled eggs up with his bare hand, shoveling it into his mouth. “Let’s go! No time to waste!” he called to the still flustered side, somehow balancing all the trays of food in one hand.

“C-coming!” Patton cried, gathering the strawberries and whipped crème.

“That’s what he said,” Remus muttered.

“What was that, Remus?”

“Nothin’, Pops! Nothin’ at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a discord now!! It's a simple server for a few friends of mine, my amazing QPP, and then my works! It also has little fandom niches that you can get into!! Hope to see you there if you decide to go!
> 
> https://discord.gg/GvST4EQEn2


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